


with an empty wish to give (i give, i gave)

by Imestelomel



Series: we breathe, we dream, we raise our love [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alpha Caleb Widogast, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Dubious Consent, Flashbacks, Insecurities, Male pronouns for Molly, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No consent issues between Molly and Caleb, Non-binary Mollymauk Tealeaf, Omega Mollymauk Tealeaf, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, The tag is just to be safe, Trauma, doubts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:38:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imestelomel/pseuds/Imestelomel
Summary: “Do you think I could be a good alpha? For him?”Fjord smiled at him. “I think you’ll be a great alpha for him.”Caleb hummed, seemingly ending the conversation.“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Caleb whispered.





	with an empty wish to give (i give, i gave)

**Author's Note:**

> So just to start, the non-con scenarios in this fic will _not_ involve Molly and Caleb as a couple.
> 
> That being said, I'm posting this because I hit a bit of a writer's block and I'm hoping revealing the first chapter will get my butt in gear.
> 
> (Title derived from [Dark Side of Me by Coheed and Cambria](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KEkhORyu-0), which is so relevant to Caleb Widogast and Widomauk that I cannot stress it enough, you need to listen to it now if you haven't heard it before.)

Caleb disassembled the tent with quick, methodical movements that were reminiscent of a soldier who had been on the march for months. The others were packing the cart and Mollymauk had long ago packed up the nest, returning the borrowed items. Caleb had insisted on packing their tent himself.

“I need to move around, warm up. It’s cold this morning.”

As he moved, slow and stiff in the cold, his brain was sprinting.

Caleb had made Mollymauk a nest, and Mollymauk was incandescently happy with it.

(The alpha in him was roaring proudly.)

He had loved it. He had held Caleb close through the night, taking comfort in him, in his scent.

(He had provided for him, fulfilled his duty - his purpose - as an alpha. The alpha in him was so pleased.)

Mollymauk trusted him. Mollymauk had asked him to stay with him through his heat. And he had said yes.

(The _alpha_ in him was ecstatic.)

 

( _Caleb_ was so very, very numb.)

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you doin’ okay?”

Caleb blinked to see Fjord sitting across from him in the cart, a look of sincere concern on his face. Jester lay between them, napping. From outside, he could hear Mollymauk teasing Beauregard about Keg sneaking off without saying a word, while Beauregard argued that the note left on her pillow counted for something. “You know, it should really be me asking you that.”

Fjord shrugged. “We’ve already reassured everyone that we’re okay. Honestly, they hadn’t gotten around to messin’ with us yet. But you... You’re lookin’ a tad off.”

Caleb blinked again. “Well, I’m no more fucked up than usual.”

He earned a snort in response. “That’s good, I guess.” Fjord had the falchion out and was running his fingers over the new changes. They had found a new blade among the Iron Shepherds and passed it on to the warlock, who had eagerly accepted it. “Congratulations, by the way.”

He cocked his head to the side. “For…?”

“Uh, you and Molly?” Fjord shot him a puzzled look.

“Oh.” Caleb swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

“It _is_ cause for celebration, right?”

It was Caleb’s turn to shrug. “We are not unhappy. It is just the circumstances that led to it were not ideal? I do… care for him. I just can’t help but feel-” he broke off, throat closing with emotion.

“That it was a bit forced?”

 _That he could do far better than a broken, deceiving alpha he knows nothing about_. “ _Ja_ ,” he said quietly. “ _Ja_ , it feels like I was forced on him.” It was a half-truth. He was good at half-truths, he thought bitterly to himself.

Fjord hummed. “I can assure you he doesn’t feel trapped. I mean, I think he’s had eyes for you since fuckin’ Alfield when I think back on it.”

Caleb sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Fjord said without hesitation.

“And you will answer honestly?”

“To the best of my abilities.”

Caleb nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Do you think I could be a good alpha? For him?”

Fjord smiled at him. “I think you’ll be a great alpha for him. After seein’ y’all together just this morning, I think you’d move mountains to give him whatever he wanted. Figuratively speaking, of course.”

Caleb hummed, seemingly ending the conversation, and Fjord quietly tucked the falchion away, hunching over a bit and nodding off a few minutes later.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Caleb whispered, his troubled answer falling on sleeping ears.

 

* * *

 

 

The first time Caleb had been with an omega in heat, he was 16.

“You are an alpha, Caleb, like me. Us alphas need to use all of the skills given to us to serve the Empire. It’s our duty,” Trent had told him, sharp eyes glinting as he sat tall behind his desk.

“I hope you pretend it is me,” Astrid had whispered as she kissed him before he left, the attraction bubbling up between them, newer than a full lunar cycle.

“I’m a little jealous,” Eodwulf had said, nipping his neck as his hands wandered close to his waistband. “You get to have your cake and eat it, too.”

Caleb hadn’t known how to tell them that he had never dreamed of having an omega in heat. He hadn’t known how to mention that his ruts were an inconvenience, not an excuse to get lost in the pleasure of finding release. There was no way to explain that the sensations of orgasms and knots were fleeting and boring, and he really didn’t care for the pleasure and the mess and the hassle of it all.

For all the words Caleb knew, for all the different ways he could make his conversations honeyed, dripping sweet and charming to anyone who heard them, he had no words to explain _that_.

So he didn’t.

So he went to the omega in heat who had arranged the tryst, her eyes hazy with lust but sparkling with the novelty of clandestine sex within the halls of the Soltryce Academy when she had cornered him in the library the day before to ask him to join her.

And as the heat hormones flooded the air he let his body react, shutting his mind off, focusing only on the task at hand.

And as she slept, he searched the room, finding letters speaking of treason, trinkets from Xhorhas, and magical items far more powerful than an omega of 15 should have.

“It was a fun little romp but I don’t think there will be a repeat performance from her,” he smirked at Eodwulf, stepping until they were pressed against each other in an alcove.

“I thought about being between your thighs the entire time,” he whispered to Astrid, sucking a mark onto the curve of her neck.

“It’s just as we suspected,” he told Trent, hands folded in his lap as Trent went through the treasure trove of evidence placed on his desk.

He didn’t tell them that it had been messy, the scent of heat cloying, the rush of hormones frightening. He didn’t say it had taken three long, scorching baths to finally feel clean, the sensations of slick and skin refusing to leave him until he had scrubbed his skin raw. He didn’t tell them something inside of him had gone _numb_ , that he’d lost that something, that he didn’t think he would ever get it back, and that he wouldn’t do it again, he wouldn’t, _he couldn’t-_

 

 

“There’s an omega who’s been sending a few too many letters to the Felderwin area that will be… _incapacitated_ in a few days time. Look into it,” Trent told him, penning a letter and neglecting to even glance where Caleb stood in front of his desk.

“Of course.”

For the Empire, _he would do anything_.


End file.
